By DANIEL J. WAKIN

Published: July 14, 2000

In Manhattan's finer cheese departments, they rise like columns in a cathedral: 72-pound wheels of Parmigiano-Reggiano, half-moon chunks of cheddar, crumpets of pungent chevre. Oversized softballs of Greek sheep's milk cheese sit on slabs of marble. Gourd-shaped Sicilian caciocavalli hang from the rafters.

To the worry of cheesemongers and epicures, this architecture of delights is now under threat.

The federal Food and Drug Administration says a growing body of literature suggests that aged cheeses made with raw, or unpasteurized, milk -- the bedrock of many of the best cheeses -- could pose a health hazard. The agency cites the potential presence of bacteria like listeria, salmonella and E. coli, which can cause serious illness, even death.

So it is reviewing regulations on such cheeses in an effort that could lead to restrictions, though that outcome is by no means certain and a decision is several years away, federal officials say.

Cheesemongers also worry that the United Nations' food arm, the Food and Agriculture Organization based in Rome, could indirectly limit the availability of raw-milk cheeses. A committee of experts is weighing an interpretation of cheese-manufacturing standards for the agency. A strict interpretation of the rules would make it difficult for small raw-milk-cheese producers to conform to the standards.

Swiss Gruyere, Parmigiano-Reggiano, Roquefort and many locally made cheddar and Swiss cheese brands may be affected by restrictions on unpasteurized-milk cheeses.

The prospect has left many in the food world aghast.

''This whole thing is crazy,'' said Steven Jenkins, cheesemonger for Fairway supermarkets, author of a cheese guide and one of the country's leading experts on cheese. ''It's going to wipe out one of the most beautiful and romantic links between human beings and the earth that we will ever know, and we are going to be the lesser for it.''

The stakes have grown in a city where restaurants like Picholine increasingly pride themselves on their cheese courses, where at least 30 specialty cheese shops in Manhattan alone offer an expanding galaxy of rare and expensive cheeses, where food sophistication extends to areas like lettuce, olive oils and heirloom tomatoes.

Studded with peppercorns, veined with herbs, entombed in moldy crust or wax, scores of aged raw-milk cheeses are available in New York cheese shops, specialty food shops and restaurants, though they form only a tiny percentage of the nationwide cheese market.

Prices can run high. A pound of farmer's cheese from Wales called Celtic Promise runs $28 a pound at Dean & DeLuca. (That is seven times the price of the ''pasteurized prepared cheese product'' called Velveeta.) It is an open secret that even unaged raw-milk cheeses -- long illegal under federal regulations -- can be had around town.

The American Cheese Society, a trade group of artisan and farmhouse cheese makers, and Oldways Preservation and Exchange Trust, which promotes traditional foods, have formed the Cheese of Choice Coalition to defend raw-milk cheeses. They have hired a lawyer in Washington to lobby the Food and Drug Administration. The group gathered 1,500 signatures in three days on petitions posted at 10 stores around the country to protest the perceived threat. A broader petition effort is planned for October.

Casting their efforts as the struggle for quality over blandness, for tradition over bureaucracy, supporters of raw-milk cheese are borrowing the language of America's momentous debates.

''What we're trying to do is basically preserve people's right to choose what they eat,'' said Debra Dickerson, the United States representative of a British importer, Neal's Yard Dairy, and a cheese society member.

The debate boils down to a clash between safety standards and the culture of food. What risks are worth taking for the sake of maintaining traditions and natural production methods? Many of those traditions, of course, are borrowed from Europe, where raw-milk cheeses have long been embedded in eating habits and are more generally considered safe.

''The ramifications are that in our lifetime everything is going to taste the same,'' said Mr. Jenkins, the cheesemonger for Fairway. ''The less culture we have, the less character we have and the less likely we will stand up for right and wrong.''

The debate is also a reminder of other cultural differences over food, like Europe's fierce resistance to American beef treated with growth hormones and to genetically altered foods.

The United States allows the sale of raw-milk cheeses that have been aged for more than 60 days, the amount of time that has been considered enough for the acids and salts in cheese to help protect against harmful pathogens like listeria, salmonella and E. coli. Pasteurizing milk eliminates pathogens, but it also neutralizes enzymes and bacteria that produce flavor, character and complexity. Pasteurization also destroys enzymes and bacteria that have health benefits, raw-milk supporters say.